A Silent Wish
by Glitchek
Summary: Russia is used to spending his birthday's alone and England just isn't having that. {RusEng}


Russia's birthday was never really something he looked forward to. Throughout his long, endless life, his birthdays had either been empty and void of anyone bar him or had just been all-together uncomfortable. He did enjoy when his sisters were there to celebrate it with him and it was nice seeing Lithuania, Estonia, and Latvia all there around the table, his house feeling warm and full as they ate dinner together.

But he saw how uncomfortable they were. He saw that they were afraid. Any feeling of happiness fled as soon as he saw their faces. So he stopped asking them to join him.

But that wasn't to say he didn't _want_ to enjoy his birthday.

He longed to have a party as big and bold as America's or one that was filled with dancing, happy people like France's. Even a small get-together would be nice, as long as his guests were there as friends; as people who _want_ to be there.

It had been a tiring day at work. The snow came down heavily outside, covering the grounds outside the building. As they packed up America complained about the coldness and France, for once, forewent fashion to cover himself in the warmest clothes he could find (and ended up looking like a rounded snowman, which caused Russia to laugh to himself).

A few people said a "Happy birthday" here and there, Germany saying it as he passed, not really wanting to make eye contact it seemed but Russia took it happily. Italy had come up to him, arms waving with a smile on his face, wishing him a happy birthday before he left to join the rest of the Axis. The larger country thought it was a shame how the Axis would wish him a happy birthday whereas his own Allies took time, only just remembering to do so.

England hadn't said a word, keeping to himself during the meeting, his mind seemingly somewhere else entirely. He had on his usual clothes, his green uniform, no sign of a scarf or hat, or anything to keep him warm in the harsh weather outside, which was highly unusual of the man. Russia had noted that the Briton had left far earlier than usual, saying he could go over someone's notes from the meeting later, insisting it was important.  
He made a face while thinking about how silly and odd it was, watching his back leave the room, wondering what could have been so attached to England's mind that he had forgotten to wrap up as he usually would. England of all people should know to wrap up in the cold as the cold was not kind.

The wind came at him fiercely as he left the building, his scarf fluttering behind him wildly. He pressed his scarf over his mouth and had to squint to see while he trudged through the snow to his car, listening to the loud chattering of the other countries behind him. He saw that England's car was gone and had a feeling in his stomach that he couldn't quite describe or get rid of but he ignored it for the sake of a warm car with warm, cozy air conditioning.

Finally making it home, he none too gently shoved the key into the lock to hurry and get indoors when he noticed the door was unlocked, the door opening slightly as he pushed against the lock. It made his heart jump with sudden fear. Someone had broken into his home? _On his birthday_ of all days? Somewhere in his mind he wondered if it was his sister, Belarus; perhaps she had snuck in and was in there waiting for him. Somewhere deeper he wondered where England had gone.

Slowly opening the old, wooden door, flinching when it let out a loud creak, he made his way indoors. He felt a shiver go through his body as warm air went over him, the house filled with a pleasant air, something he hadn't felt for such a long time.

There were noises coming from the living room.

Rusting, shuffling. The creak of his favourite chair being sat on.

Shutting the door behind him (and remembering to lock it this time), he shuffled over to the living room door, looking down at his snow-covered shoes and the glow of a fire seeping under the door.

The noises had stopped.

Had they heard him?

Breathing in a deep breath, he pushed the door open as quickly as he could, his eyes shut tight. The door let out a loud bang as it swung on its hinges and hit a wall. He heard a jump in the intruder's breath. Realising his eyes were still closed and that he they hadnt said anything, he opened them slowly in fear of seeing his sister or someone worse.

What he did see was most certainly not what he expected.

The living room was covered in a warm and pleasant orange glow given by the fireplace, above the fireplace were many birthday cards that covered the wall, a chain banner hanging lightly over them. On one side of the coffee table that sat before the fireplace were many presents, wrapped in a red wrapping and covered in fine gold ribbon, topped with beautiful bows.

On the other side were mugs filled with what looked like hot chocolate, small marshmallows floating at the top, biscuits sitting beside the cups.

It all took his breath away.

Finally realising what he was looking at he frantically looked to his left and right before his eyes found their way to a figure sitting on his chair, his eyes traveling up them slowly. Their fingers covered in plasters, a light green shirt with a tie resting on his chest, and just as green eyes looked back at him as he met them with his own purple ones.

"England?"

The man looked stumped for words, like he was surprised he was even there himself. Clearly trying to compose himself and with a few sniffles (not sniffles of sadness but one of the cold), he stood and faced the taller country, slowly walking towards Russia. Standing before the Russian nation, he looked up and a soft but tired smile graced his face. Russia felt something begin to well up inside of him, the area around his eyes beginning to hurt.

"Happy birthday Russia."

He couldn't hold it back, it felt like centuries of emotions were now all bubbling over and escaping him all at once. He covered his face in his hands, his eyes peaking through them as he looked down at England who now had a worried look on his face, saying words Russia could barely hear through his sobs. Hot tears fell down his face and England dabbed at them with the pad of his thumb, guiding Russia over to his sofa, sitting himself and Russia down on it. England draped a blanket over the other's shoulders then began dabbing at his face with a small handkerchief he had taken from his chest pocket.

Once Russia had calmed down, he looked to his side at the small island nation and asked, "What are you doing here..?" His voiced sounded distant and quiet, sad almost.

England simply looked back and said, "Because birthday's aren't any fun without anyone there with you."

After thanking the Brit, Russia once again looked around the room, his eyes finally settling on the presents and drinks. England noticed this and picked up a large, hot mug nearly filled to the brim with the chocolaty drink.

"Here- i wasn't sure if you liked tea or coffee so i just made you hot chocolate instead." He said as he pushed the drink toward Russia's hands, a light red dusting his cheeks. Gratefully taking the drink, he quickly bought it to his lips and tipped his head back, nearly drinking it all in one go. England most definitely made good hot chocolate.

England smiled at this, hearing Russia sigh in happiness, he reached over and picked up a small present off the table, handing it to the other. Russia smiled and placed his cup down on the table and took the present from England, an excited smile spread across his face as he opened it.

After opening the presents, Russia surrounded by them (which consisted of plushies and books, some embroideries and even a hand-made blanket), the two of them talked. They talked about birthday's and what they meant to them, they also talked about family and their lives.

This went on for so long the two lost track of time. It had to have been a while as Russia could have sworn he could see the sky getting light outside, the snowfall still just as heavy as yesterday. Seeing the outside begin to get lighter, he realised just how tired he was. He eyes felt heavy and he barely registered England's hand on his arm and that voice asking him if he was okay.

Nodding, he looked to England's face. "I think i may need to go to bed now." He said with a small smile.

England nodded to himself and stood up, taking Russia by the hand and guiding him out of the room, up his old, loud stairs and to what Russia pointed at as his bedroom. Russia felt as though this was a tad odd, England guiding him to his room and holding his hand no less, acting like a parent. Or a guardian. It made him feel safe.

He was so lost in thought that he hadn't realised England left him in his room and was now standing outside, leaving him to get changed into his pajamas. And so he did. He changed quickly into a shirt and long bottoms before climbing into his bed, sighing happily as he lay down, the softness of his mattress and the duvet combined felt like heaven upon his aching body.

England slowly opened the door and peaked in, smiling when he saw Russia dozing off. Walking over to him, he sat down next to him on the bed, looking down at the larger nation who was on the brink of falling asleep.

"Did you have a nice birthday?" England asked, his voice quiet and curious.

Opening his eyes slowly, Russia smiled widely. "It was wonderful."

His smile faded for a moment as he thought before looking up at England.

"May i ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Why did you come here? I know i asked earlier- but we barely talk to each other. I am not ungrateful for what you have done for me, but why?"

England thought for a moment, looking out at a window that looked out at a small town and big, white-covered fields. Looking back down at Russia, he reached out a hand and brushed away stray hairs that fell upon Russia's confused face.

"I felt guilty. I felt bad that every year it was clear that you enjoyed birthdays and made it clear that you wanted others to be happy on theirs but you were never happy on yours. I saw your face when you walked into the meeting room each year and no one wished you a happy birthday- You just looked so sad." At this point, England sounded as though he was going to cry himself, his voice cracking as he thought about it, seeming to truly feel bad about his empty birthday's.

"I wanted you to have a happy birthday."

Russia felt that feeling around his eyes again as England said this, sniffling a bit and covering his face, praying that he wouldn't cry again.

Taking England hand in his own larger one, he held it against the side of his face.

"Thank you. Thank you, England."

Squeezing Russia's hand lightly, England smiled.

"You're very welcome."

 **A.N:**  
 **Ah,, i havent written anything in so long. I hope this is okay (●'** **艸｀** **)**  
 **please feel free to point out any mistakes!**

 **Also here in case u wanna kudos (which would be super rad) uvu) : Link to ao3**


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